


The Plan

by Fiore_the_Dragoness



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-12
Updated: 2018-01-12
Packaged: 2019-03-03 20:57:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,650
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13349370
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fiore_the_Dragoness/pseuds/Fiore_the_Dragoness
Summary: Frisk figured that tonight, due to the circumstances, they were going to implement the Plan.  They just never fully realized the consequences of their actions until much later on.





	The Plan

**Author's Note:**

> This is entirely un-beta'd. It originally stemmed from a Frisk headcanon I had, but took on a life all its own.   
> (Lordy. 1656 words. Wow.) I haven't written in a while, but inspiration struck and I knew I wasn't sleeping tonight anyway.
> 
> If you see any grammatical problems, please tell me and I'll fix them.
> 
> If you think something needs to be tagged, tell me and I'll add it. 
> 
> It's 4 in the morning. Just take it. If people want a continuation, I guess that might be a thing? IDK. - =^.ᆽ.^= (Your friendly neighborhood Kat)

Contrary to public opinion, the Ambassador’s childhood wasn’t terrible by any means. In fact, Frisk, before The Fall, would have said it was downright normal. Their house was one of the last on the bus route and, sometimes, the small group of friends, Frisk included of course, would all tumble down the steps of the rickety vehicle and chase each other into their houses. Bobby, who aspired to be a pitcher in the major leagues of his favorite sport, would vault over the front gate to his house’s garden in order to get away from Paul, the pastor’s kid (and also the fastest of the group, though none would be so quick to admit it). He would simultaneously hurl his parting words as he sprinted into the house. (One time, Bobby ran straight through the screen door and his mother’s screeching could be “heard for miles.”) 

Paul was just a bit up the road and the next to trot into the quaint little bungalow his family owned, waving with a big smile as the others continued down the dirt road, flinging stones every which way. Linda, with her kind, brown eyes and dark, curly hair that always seemed to have a mind of its own, was next to screech into the pathway leading to her family’s greenhouse so she could water the plants before starting on her homework (Frisk greatly admired her ethic). Her family actually lived closer to town, but for whatever reason, her mother Trisha had planted her business there and refused to uproot any of her “babies,” despite her entrepreneur husband’s wishes.

Finally, it was just Danni and Frisk in the final homestretch. These two had a running (hah) gag wherein one would try to trip up the other, but Danni could never quite catch Frisks feet. (They said this was due to their “lucky” tennis shoes and the kids found no fault in the argument so it was never contested. Finally, after Danni trotted up her driveway and into her (or was it his? Frisk was never sure what Danni might’ve been at any given moment. Danni could be anything from a fellow, a lady, or a mermaid in disguise at any given point in the day and couldn’t seem to settle on anything) mother’s waiting arms. This left Frisk to their own devices and they either continued running at full tilt or slowed to a trot (depending on how fierce the last leg had been) before reaching The House. They always paused at the front gate before very gently unlatching and re-latching the gate bolt (if they tried to do what Bobby did or swung the gate too hard, they’d never hear the end of things from Father) before stepping indoors.

The house itself wasn’t anything special, just a double-wide trailer “in the middle of nowhere,” as Danni would say. It had a few flower boxes scattered around the front that never seemed to be used for much and the door was badly in need of new hinges and a fresh coat of paint. Today however, instead of continuing inside like they usually did, Frisk paused when they noticed The Van. The Van was back and it never bode well for Frisk and their siblings when it showed up. Additionally, The Van came with another problem: Richard; AKA The Idiot. Richard must’ve been inside talking to Mary Jane and Father. Frisk liked Mary Jane. She was the best babysitter Frisk had ever had and told the best bedtime stories. Frisk swallowed harshly and tried to enter the house as quietly as they could. With luck, they could figure out what was going to happen and, if worse came to worst, they would implement The Plan they had figured out when Mary Jane told them about the legends surrounding the mountain.

Unfortunately, Frisk ran right into Richard’s backside when they opened the main door. They could feel the color drain from their face. Not good. Not good at all. The Idiot whirled around and fixed Frisk with the Look and turned, reluctantly, towards Father. Father never batted an eye, just took a puff from his pipe and beckoned Frisk towards his favorite chair, to which Frisk quickly obliged. If they weren’t quick whenever summoned, there was a slight, but not too bad as compared to previous experiences, punishment: a butt smacking. They stuck as close to Father as they could as the conversation played out in front of them.

“I’m sorry Frank, but its got to be. Orders from higher ups. There’s gotta be a transfer. If Marge was still here,” (Frisk had only barely gotten to meet “Marge,” Father’s previous wife for her last month before succumbing to her illness. She, and Father, Frisk supposed, was alright.) it wouldn’t have to be this way. I’ll give you today and tomorrow to say your goodbyes to Farrah (Frisk curled their lip in distaste for that name) and then we’ve got to move her to another Home. The higher ups think-.” Frisk had known it was coming for a while now. A Move. They had never been in a house for this long before and now they were going to be uprooted again. Tonight, they would have to pack. Tomorrow? They would be long gone.

The evening was somber as even Father seemed to be contemplating things at the dinner table. Nobody did much but nibble at what was on their plates, but Frisk forced themselves to eat as much as they could stand. They’d need the energy for the Plan. When they were sent to bed, Mary Jane couldn’t tell them a bedtime story due to the wetness gathering at the corners of her eyes. Frisk hugged her, it was the least they could do, before Mary Jane disengaged and bid them goodnight for the last time. Now, it was just waiting.

Soon enough, they could hear Father coming up the stairs and entering the bedroom. The lights in the hall went out and the bedsprings creaked for a bit while Father settled himself, and then there was snoring from down the hall. It was go time. Frisk pulled their backpack out from behind the headboard and checked their supplies: some clothing-their favorite striped sweater and some mittens and a matching beanie, some of their prized possessions (a pocket knife one of the boys from a prior Home had given them, their favorite book, detailing all sorts of fanciful tales of knights and dragons that Mary Jane did the best voices for, and finally, Frisk placed Merlin, the worn and wizened plush wizard cat, into the bag before placing the backpack at the foot of their bed, still mostly open. They’d have to sneak some food from the kitchen into it after all. After this was done they pulled out a change of clothes from the closet; a simple pair of jean shorts and a long sleeved black top, exchanging these for the pajamas they were wearing. Said pajamas were squeezed into the back of the backpack behind the sweater. After pulling on their trusty boots, they slipped the bag onto one shoulder before slipping out of the room and, after a glance toward the main bedroom to make certain they were still in the clear, stole towards the kitchen.

They quickly placed their parcel down before attacking certain cabinets for cereal, bread, trail mix, jerky, and a couple other dry foods before turning to the fridge for a block of cheese and some water bottles. Each of these items were packed away safely and as quietly as they could manage. Soon they were staring at the door. The door with squeaky hinges. The last barrier to certain freedom. They paused, listening for any change in the regular snores, before gathering up their determination and turning the knob. Pause. They slowly began to open the door. They knew there was a certain point that the door would have to reach before the noises started. …There! The good thing about being small, Frisk thought, is that I don’t have to worry about moving the door much further than this to get through. They very slowly eased the slightly protesting door open further before passing over the house’s threshold and onto the front lawn before closing the door as quietly as they could manage behind them. They then stepped back and looked at the house they had lived in for a month and three weeks longer than the others before turning their back on their old life and heading towards their new one.

The beginnings of dawn found Frisk staring up at Mt. Ebbot. Frisk was currently resting a bit on a fallen log and eating some of the cereal they had packed, considering they were exhausted, hungry, and more than a little tired. Despite this, they realized they were still plenty determined to climb the beastly rock as they shoved the cereal into its backpack pocket. After shouldering their belongings, Frisk began to shake off the sleepiness and proceeded up the trail to the top. About halfway up, the trail disappeared and Frisk was left wandering in the darkness, more than a little unnerved and tripping on invisible objects on the ground. One of these trips sent them sprawling onto the dirt. Spitting out leaves and twigs, Frisk merely picked themself up and kept walking, determined to reach Mt. Ebbot’s summit. Then, from somewhere to their left, the rustling started. Frisk froze trying to place where precisely it was before they noticed it. It was a bear. Very carefully, Frisk began to back up, attempting to be as stealthy as possible before a major mistake occurred. Suddenly, there was no more ground beneath their right foot, and suddenly, Frisk was falling. There wasn’t time enough to make a sound. Frisk’s last thought was that they wished there was more padding in their satchel before they passed out.


End file.
